The Shop

Chapter 5

I knock on the door of my sister's room, bringing her soup. No answer.

"Gemma?" She doesn't answer.

"I swear if you're changing and I come in, it's not my fault." My hand grips the door knob and I try to turn the latch. It's locked, great. 

"Gemma, please open the door. Listen I heard you crying earlier and if it's those girls again..." I hear whispering. I quiet myself and listen to Gemma through the door. 

"It's too hard. No, no, no. Please, make the pain go away. I don't want to do this anymore." She is crying with every word. I sense something is wrong and try to open the door with more intensity now.

"Gemma please open up!" Cries of pain and sorrow bleed through the door and I begin to panic. I run to the kitchen and grab the house phone and dial my oldest sister Alice. 

"Alice please come home quick!" Now I realize I'm crying over the phone.

"Harry? Whats wrong?" Her voice is worried and the cries are louder in the background.

"Come home quick! It's Gemma!" One final scream makes me drop the phone and run back down to the outside of Gemma's room. I left the phone hanging by the cord with Alice on the other end crying and asking of anyone is still there.

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I shoot up from the bed and quickly learn my body is drenched in sweat. My chest is moving up and down and my breathing has accelerated. Tara is sitting next to me on the bed, rubbing my back slowly. 

"Are you ok? I came in hear and you were tossing and turning." The room is dark and Tara looks tired. I must've been sleeping all day. 

"Yeah, I just um, had a bad dream." I sniffle and realize I had been crying. Fuck that's embarrassing. 

"You need anything, want to talk about it?" The last thing I want to do right now is talk about my dream, no nightmare, with my girlfriend.

"Uhm, no. I'm fine." Standing up she moves out of the way so I can get out of bed. I stretch and glance at the clock. It's six, great to know my whole Saturday was spent trapped in a nightmare. 

"I'm going to make dinner babe." Tara is still rubbing my shoulder and the stress lines between her eyes have not vanished. 

"Ok." I mumble, taking off the drenched shirt. 

"Do you want baked ziti for dinner?" I want her to leave me alone right now but I can't be mad at her. Tara didn't do anything wrong.

"Sure." Tara disappears down the hall, leaving me alone in the dark. I sigh and try to erase that whole experience that just played in my mind. I slide on a clean black t-shirt and eventually figure I will just have to cope with that dream. I walk into the living room and no one is in there. As I make my way to the kitchen, I find Tara. Her hair is pinned up in a bun, and she is wearing an apron my older sister Alice got her for Christmas. Tara is humming to herself and preparing the pasta. God I have to love her.

Tara turns around and says, "Oh my! You startled me!" She puts her hand on her chest like she is having a heart attack and she smiles while panting. 

"Sorry for being snappy with you before. I just don't want to talk about what I was dreaming of." She seems pleased by my gesture.

"It's ok, you don't need to tell me right now. But I eventually want to find out."  Making me promise to tell her when I'm ready, she changes the subject. 

"So babe...I was talking to Mary earlier and she is very sorry she annoyed you but honestly I think you overreacted a little--" I cut her off.

"Are you seriously siding with her?" I hope Tara registers how pissed I am.

"You overreacted!" Is Tara being serious?

"She makes these retarded comments and thinks I'm a fucking ninny that doesn't care about anything she says!" Standing in this room, arguing with Tara isn't going to get me anywhere.

"I've told you countless times not to use that language with me Harry--" Tara stops and watches me shove my boots on and grab my coat.

"Where are you going?" Her voice is soft now and if I didn't know any better I would say she is, upset.

"Out." She makes no argument to stop me. Storming out of the apartment I learn one, I don't have car keys and two, I have no idea where I'm going. Stepping out of the apartment building and ignoring Rudolf the doorman I find myself walking to the pub down the street. Taking one step inside I immediately smell whiskey and drunk bastards. Sliding into a barstool next to a passed out homeless man, I order one shot of Vodka. Every drink I take, the more I forget about Tara and our fight and my problems...Another round tonight. 

My vision is blurry but I still can't help myself from consuming the burning liquid. After about...I can't even remember how many drinks I have had. The bartender cuts me off and takes my credit card. I don't know how hours it's been but I find myself stumbling out of the bar, trying to make sense of all the blurry streets signs. I assume it has been an hour of wandering before I roll into the front lobby of the apartment building. Ralph or whatever his name is rushes over to me, pulling me off of the floor.

"Roofus! My main man! How-w ya been man?" My speech is a little slurred and he drags me over to the elevator. 

"Mr. Styles, I hope you don't mind me asking but, are you intoxicated?" He is being very careful not to offend me. I guess he isn't trained for these types of situations. 

"Hell yeah man! I'm wassssted!" My eyes roll back a little and my knees give in for a second but Robert catches me. 

"Up you go, Mr. Styles." Randy clicks the sixth floor on the elevator and sends me on my way. I basically trip out onto the sixth floor and wobble back to apartment. As I reach the door of my house I dig through my pockets, searching for my keys. They eventually turn up but my hand won't stay still long enough for me to put the keys in the lock. Before completing the task the front door opens and standing there is an angry Tara.